Orlando music blog & zine

Tag: punk

I’ve spoken to a lot of people about the state of Orlando punk. Although ORL classics like Wet Nurse and hardcore new-comers Flamethrower push the culture forward, the consensus is that it’s not quite as abundant as it once was — whether you agree with that or not, you have to admit that the loss of Vivian K., False Punk, GAG, Butterqueen, etc. were upsetting.

But there’s one group that absolutely will not stop. Since forming in 2011, Tight Genes has cycled through many different characters, always being a vehicle for Noah LaChance and Kayo Roguez. Tragically, two of those past members have since passed, one in a drug overdose and the other in a motorcycle accident. And throughout all this hardship, they’ve pushed forward releasing their latest seven-inch Prison Wallet in late February. I sat down at three of the four (Eddie appears via cellphone) punks in the current iteration of Tight Genes at the band’s animal-filled house. Enjoy.

Upcoming Appearances:

matthew warhol: How long have you guys been in this incarnation of the band?

Noah LaChance: The band has been together now for five years, quite a history. [Kayo] and I are both original members, but I started the band with my friend Owen. And uh, he was in and out of rehab and was in jail for a while, so it kind of stunted stuff. Before any of that happen, we released album that was put out by Goodbye Boozy, an Italian record label.

matthew warhol: What year was that?

Noah LaChance: 2011. So that was about six years ago.

[laughs]

Alexis Simon: Wow.

Noah LaChance: Then Pat joined the band. Owen ended up coming down and stayed with us for a while. He ended up passing away from a drug overdose. Then Pat continued the band with us; then unfortunately, he ended-up dying in a motorcycle accident.

Alexis Simon: That’s why I’m in the band. It’s kind of bittersweet.

Noah LaChance: Eddie had also been in the band for a while. He was our bassist. And after all this happened and I decided to continue the band — it was a tough decision, two people who are incredibly essential…

Noah LaChance: But the first seven-inch we had were songs that I recorded and demoed myself for a while. I showed my friend Owen and he was like, “We need to make this a thing.” From that moment, I felt that this was my outlet from whatever I’m feeling. All the lyrics are really satirical. We have a lot of songs about movies. I have one about Predator, Big Trouble, Little China.

matthew warhol: How have they changed throughout the everything the band has gone through?

Noah LaChance: That happened a while ago … that was like two or three years ago?

Alexis Simon: Owen was like three years. Pat was like two years.

Noah LaChance: When we started we wrote slower, poppier stuff. It’s changed with Eddie on guitar and Alexis on bass.

matthew warhol: Was that in Orlando?

Noah LaChance: Yeah.

matthew warhol: Who else was coming up in that time?

Kayo Roguez: Golden Pelicans.

Noah LaChance: Wet Nurse was around in that time.

Alexis Simon: Odd Movers.

Noah LaChance: Pat had a band around that time called Sexcapades.

matthew warhol: That’s a lot of names. I guess this is a two part question because two things are going through my mind — because I’m stoned — so like, answer these in whatever order you want to, but how has Orlando punk changed and how has the music also changed, having gone through all that other stuff?

Noah LaChance: For the most part, even though it’s a punk scene at its core, it’s always been pretty open to a lot of things. I don’t know if you see this button. This is Todd. He’s a part of Tam Tam and The Sandwich Man — they were around back then.

Alexis Simon: They still play random shows.

Kayo Roguez: They’rein hiding.

Noah LaChance: Thee Wilt Chamberlin has been around.

Kayo Roguez: I don’t know if they’re a band anymore.

matthew warhol: To me, False Punk was a huge loss. So that’s the thing I was thinking. There’s not as many as there used to be.

Noah LaChance: But even then, that was only like two years ago. And like five years ago, there was a good rise in popularity. Before this band started, Kayo and I were in a band called Lazy Boys — when he was like 16. Even if it was smaller, everyone had a band at the time. There was a lot more going on musically, and I feel like that’s way cooler, to have everyone actively pursuing music in some shape or form then even there being an active scene of a bunch of people. I’d rather everyone be playing music so you see everyone’s creative juices flowing. It was cool when there was a bunch more bands going on.

matthew warhol: You cherish it a little bit more. Alexis, when exactly did you join the band and was it already a little more sparse?

Alexis Simon: I don’t know, I guess I haven’t been around as much. When I moved to Orlando, I lived near UCF. And I liked punk music, but I never knew of anything going on. I think the first show I went to was a Lazy Boys show. But I was in a random goth band. As far as the scene goes, there’s always something whether it’s raw punk or grindcore or the opposite side of the spectrum. There’s always something happening and Orlando is accepting enough where you have a bunch of different genres mixing.

matthew warhol: I mean the show next Sunday, the bands are kind of like that. Stuyedeyed are a little more psychedelic. Sonic Graffiti are a little more rock n roll.

Alexis Simon: It’s cool that everyone is coming out. Not just musicians, people coming out to shows are open to listening to different stuff. Not everyone likes Tight Genes, but more people like them than I would expect, usually.

[laughs]

Noah LaChance: The thing I think makes Orlando unique, and is a part of why I’ve stayed here so long, is Uncle Lou’s.

Alexis Simon: I love Lou.

Noah LaChance: That guy has let me do so much shit in his bar. One time, I had someone jump on my back and ended up falling backwards and breaking a mirror, and he was cool with it. When I first started going to shows there, he’d always have his headphones on, be watching the sports game. He didn’t really pay attention. Now, you go and he knows everybody by name. He’s a character of Orlando. You got to love that. He’s let us do whatever we want. We’ve thrown Valentine’s Day shows …

matthew warhol: Was that the Tittie Thyme one?

Alexis Simon: We love Lou.

matthew warhol: By the way, what up zine community? Shout out Tittie Thyme. So then going to the other side of things, which is the question I asked before we divulged into that, how has the music changed too? Losing two people but continuing on, that has to change a person and that has to change the music.

Noah LaChance: Before we go into that I want to say one thing. One of the biggest losses, was The Space. It was so DIY. And we’d respect the place. Everyone kept it nice and didn’t steal anything. That was a big part of our band and what allowed us to connect to people from Jacksonville and Savannah. We were able to like, bring them down, have a keg, charge people five bucks, make 100 bucks to pay this band.

Noah LaChance: But to answer your question, and Kayo has a lot of input with this too, what is cool is that with Eddie being in the band, we’ve gone in a harder direction.

Kayo Roguez: We’ve always had a revolving door of people, in and out.

Noah LaChance: In the beginning, especially with my friend being in and out of rehab, a lot of songs were kind of stagnant. All together, we have three seven-inches so far. We have two on the way. One that is recorded and just needs to be mastered. And the other that we worked on just this weekend. Our latest seven-inch Prison Wallet …

Kayo Roguez: … is the first where I’ve played drums.

Alexis Simon: Even though you were the original drummer.

Noah LaChance: This is the first one with this lineup. And some of the songs are from previous lineups, but some our newer. “Bathroom Baby” is a poppier song that Eddie wrote. We’ve been able to flourish a lot more with this lineup, without everyone’s other interests, whatever they may be.

matthew warhol: It’s more focused?

Noah LaChance: Definitely is.

Alexis Simon: But the music is darker, especially after Pat passed.

Noah LaChance: There are a few songs that are a reference to them.

matthew warhol: Is it darker even outside of the lyrics?

Alexis Simon: I’d definitely say some of the songs are darker. But I definitely think that we’ve gotten more aggressive. I think the tone of the instruments has gotten more … I don’t know how to explain it.

Noah LaChance: But a lot of our lyrics are still satirical. Like I was saying, we have a song about Predator, the greatest piece of American cinema.

Noah LaChance: Really, with action movies, they’re all satirical. They’re all phony. So it’s easy to write a cheesy song about cheesy material. It’s a time in cinema that will never be replicated.

matthew warhol: So like, I don’t know if this is getting too deep, but what’s satirical about your music?

Noah LaChance: Some of it. Our first seven-inch is called Cop Again. It was about turning tricks for heroin and going out. It was also a reference to a Mummies song because it was about stabbing a dude and taking his wallet behind a laundry mat. So the next song “Rats,” is about thinking rats are all throughout your house and that someone is recording you. It’s about paranoia, which, when you’re a heroin addict is something you feel.

Alexis Simon: I feel like he writes satirical songs about things that are really serious in his life to almost like, as a way to reflect on it that may not be as negative.

…but it’s Overthought, not over thought, an homage to Nevermind. Overthought, a feeling mutual to us all.

Headphones in. Fuzz on. Distortion tone set to HI, color set to OD.

90s California is the band’s influence; Pavement, The Flesh Eaters, The Bay Area. They’re holding apathetic self-aware parking-lot sprawl rock to a high standard, and Crit’s Overthought is an apex example of how music is no longer bound by location, but based purely off influence. “Fucking Up///Fuck Me Up” hits us with the pleading vocals that hold throughout the whole album. It’s asking for accountability and he’s “fucking exhausted.” Punk rock with its own fangs that are not store-bought, but handmade. The mixture of Wowee Zowee and American post-punk Replacements brings a sense of nostalgia you didn’t even realize you experienced, let alone missed.

“I know it’s just wrong / to shrug it off.” (A brief comment in Orlando Weekly’s 2015 Undie isn’t something to shrug about, either.) “Lose It All” rattles ice picks of misguided anxiety in just under three minutes and this trend of impaling riffs and vocal presentations never halters. “On Me” shows off the immutable mixing and mastering of this record. Vocal cracks bring real power to this track drilling in “It’s all fun.” “Asking Myself” is another anthem. Crit knows that self-degradation makes for killer tracks when done genuinely. “What am I doing? / Feeling hopeless all the time.” We’ve heard it time and time again, but when Crit presents it, we listen. It’s pop and there’s nothing bad about it.

“Waiting Too Long” seems to call in The Ramones, if they where pissed that they got called sissy’s and are throwing knives into the ashcan eardrums of the audience. The tone presented matches the title track; anxiety becomes nervous energy and explodes into the closing track. Apathy reached its logical conclusion, acceptance but with remorse.

Crit exemplifies revivalism in indie rock before it broke the mainstream and was separated from alternative. They are the local band to watch. 2016 should be marauded of emotion for their sophomore album.

In the 80s, hardcore punk flourished in Gainesville and Orlando, with bands like Roach Mote, The Damn Maniacs, Dissent, and Florida’s Unwanted Children achieving underground affluence. Thirty years later, a new hardcore punk band, False Punk, is carrying the baton of punk rockinto the present day. Playing DIY venues like The Space, The Space Station and Lou’s Entertainment Hall, they serve this still thriving punk scene. Their sound: a handful of mud, an orangutan’s heart and a jar of spit collected from their ravenous shows. All blended up and served with a smile!

After all, these are false punks.

“Spitface,” an homage to 80s hardcore, and starts S/T off with enraging transitions, a calling card for False Punk. It’s no surprise that the band shared a summer tour with local Power Violence band GROSS — the vigorous “got smoke in my eye” anger flows in their blood too. This track is two minutes and too short. Tempo change is False Punk’s secret weapon, exemplified in “In Death Do We Part.” Local punks take note: sludge is your friend; they like the dirt just as much as you do.

“Full Wolf//Adjustment Bureau” combines GERMS’ glaring hardcore and Fang’s memorable riffs. This should be the single; it’s a defining sound of the band. The fuzz bass anarcho-punk intro in “NSNP” is enough to crush your bones and leave you begging for death’s hand. The song’s experimental guitar progressions and vocals are reminiscent of The Urinals, another Californian influence, pulling you in and out with cyclone chords and drowning symbols. It’s no wonder that False Punk display split flying energy whenever they play.

After a false end, the track returns at six minutes and fifty-three seconds with a nod to cassette culture. This “hidden track” plays out the same, experimental and self-destructive. However, it takes influence from Hardcore/Grunge band Unwound and shows the band progressing into a noisier and filthier group. If this is an example of what’s to come from False Punk, can someone ask death to turn my hourglass over? I need to see how this plays out.

***

Canadian band and Sub Pop signed band METZ missed out on getting False Punk to open at The Beacham. Sub-Pop should be jumping to sign this band.

What happened to Punk? Weren’t we attending every backyard brawl just to hear a band that would inspire us to knock heads with our fellow thrashers? Caffiends latest, No Gods No Decaf, comes at you like a golden egg through a goose. “Anthem For A Shittier Tomorrow” shoots right out of the gate with intent; “Succubus” immediately follows through with skinning force. With fast and catchy lead riffs, rivaling thick driving bass lines, and spot-on trad punk-skins, “Hello Reality” brings everything that was once beautiful from ’90s-era pop punk to the forefront in what feels like a skatehead’s ballad to life.

Be that as it may, the most note-worthy titles on this album are the fast, thrashy, party-hearty death jams. The first of these, “Dillinger Four is a Gateway Drug,” comes out swinging for your guts, and won’t let up until you’re bruised, bloodied and grinning from ear to ear. Its dirty riffs and machine-gun drums will call you back to the pit once more.

At the peak of this album, “A Light at the End of the Funnel” immediately hooks you in with bass progression that’ll turn a crawl into a sprint. The vocals play on our bittersweet memories of getting drunk and wasting time: our beautiful anthem. Following this thought, the bass and skins go quiet to usher in the guitar’s melancholy lead. This track may very well leave you with a sense of longing that you can’t quite place.

Not to worry though, as this notion is immediately replaced by a “Hangover Fart” that’ll soil your drawers. Following is the phenomenally thrashy tribute to the 90s, “I Wanna Get a Mohawk,” egging you on to jump from the stage, elbows flailing, into a thrashing mob of sweaty moshers.

With an album that goes as hard and as fast as No Gods No Decaf, how do Caffiends round off this harmonic cacophony of punk-rock standbys? Through the titular track, “No Gods No Decaf.” Quite possibly one of the hardest tracks on the album, it concludes this fast-paced, one-band thrash-fest with a well-warranted bang.

Throughout the album, a saxophone takes to the stage alongside these talented thrashers: the final track being no exception. Caffiends bring one last surprise in the form of, to date, one of the greatest saxophone solos to grace Punk-Rock (can’t say that very often, now can you?). It maintains its jazzy roots, while keeping pace with high-octane guitar, culminating in an experience that summons all your dear memories of getting your ass kicked at all those old living room and backyard shows.

No Gods No Decaf gives us a solemn promise that Caffeinds aren’t done by a long shot, and they’re here to help you break your shit and burn down your house. Party.

Last week, Columbia, SC punk bands fk mt. and No. ran through The Space Station on their short FL/GA tour. YouTube user Max Power captured quick glimpses of the chaos via a handheld video recording device. I’m beyond thrilled that The Space Station is becoming a go-to venue for local and touring acts. If you haven’t been to an event at the College Park screen printing shop /slash/ music venue /slash/ leather studio (?), then you should really just retire, because you’re way out of touch. Or, you save your reputation by getting your face smashed-in at a show in black hole that is The Space Station’s backroom. Your choice. Enjoy.

Is it possible to control a packed, sweaty crowd with a remote control? And if so, does that make us fans into television characters, dancing around for our master’s enjoyment? For Japanese noise rock duo, Melt Banana, this remote control mosh pit seems to be a nightly occurrence.

Late last week, Melt Banana played Orlando for the first time in four years. I and my main goon/incredible photographer (all my friends are photographers) Johnny B showed up prepared for mayhem. But, we definitely weren’t prepared for Melt Banana’s brand of ear-busting madness. Enjoy.

In the past, Melt Banana has had live drums. They’ve had two official drummers and a number of guest drummers for touring and studio recordings. But, pretty much every band has a drummer. And Melt Banana, in both sound and performance, is pretty much like no other band. They descended upon Orlando with grit, furry, and power. Yasuko Onuki constantly bombarded the crowd, and their eardrums, with her brutal vocals, never breaking throughout their 45-minute set. She also wielded the aforementioned remote that commanded pre-recorded drums.

The reason I keep coming back to this remote is because throughout the show, it kept the pace of the night’s energy. Onuki repeatedly raised the illuminated rectangle above her head, stopping the barrage of sound, before swinging it down, dropping a bomb of adrenaline onto the audience. Like a twisted conductor, her movements controlled the sea of bodies before her.

But, Melt Banana has a co-conductor. And he’s just as twisted. The piercing sound of guitarist Ichirou Agata was the true perpetrator in the stabbing of my ears. He masterfully looped guitar lines atop of each other to create a wave of static. During each song, Agata would run through a string of riffs, quickly switching along with his partner’s remote. The entire night felt like flipping through channels, endlessly overcome with stimuli, until your head finally explodes.

What makes your belly hurt? My belly hurts because I have Irritable Bowel Syndrome (yup). It seems the ladies of Wet Nurse also suffer from IBS, as their stomach pain erupts from a variety of sources. In my experience, I find rock n’ roll is the best medicine for a stomach ache.

That’s the exact cure I found two Saturdays ago at Polylust Burlesque’s Gender Bender Homecumming Fundraiser (that my friends, is called a segway). The night was bonkers. Great performances by Wet Nurse, The Areolas, Luscious Lisa, and the Polylust troop. This video is from said event and captures a currently unreleased, but I believe already recorded, song. They’re cookin’ up something, and I want to know about it. Experience more of the night at the holy David Wilcox’s YouTube Channel. Enjoy.

Also, you may notice a cameo appearance from both me and TVW’s OG Photographer, Karina. Cause we coo’.